Chapter Text
When he was twenty years old and had taken on the role of his two younger siblings’ guardian, Jisung had given them only three rules; One, make sure you are home by nine. Two, call me if you ever need anything. Three, don’t go to jail.
Lucky for him, he has a couple of years before Subin could even break any of the rules. At only eight years old, the only thing Subin uses the phone for is to play Minecraft and Roblox after he has finished his homework. Subin goes outside to play sometimes, but he is usually back in the small apartment the three share by seven, mostly because Jisung doesn’t like letting him out on his own for too long.
Hosang, however, is an entirely different story.
He is at the bright, fun age of fifteen where he likes to break all the rules Jisung had set for them just because he can. When Jisung says to be home by nine, he comes home at eleven, ignoring any call to the phone that Jisung pays the bill for. Jisung is convinced that Hosang doesn’t even have his number in his phone.
For the longest time, Jisung was at least satisfied that Hosang didn’t try to break his third rule. Jisung looks back on that, and huffs as he shifts in the seat of the juvenile detention center. Subin, bright and happy Subin, plays on the switch that Jisung bought for him last Christmas with help from Felix in the seat next to him. Jisung tries to keep any more disappointed huffs from happening, not wanting to stir his angel of a younger brother from his bubble of ignorance.
“Jisung Han,” A man calls from the desk at the front, and Jisung stands up. He grabs Subin’s hand and Subin takes the hint, standing with him. Jisung is surprised, but not that he doesn’t take his eyes off of his switch. “Your brother is in one of our cells in the back.”
No shit, Jisung thinks. That’s why I was called here.
He doesn’t say that. Instead, he clears his throat and says, “Yeah. How much will it be to bail him out?”
“We’ll have to figure that out,” The man says, sitting in his chair and relaxing like he doesn’t have Jisung’s little brother in a holding cell. “If I were you, I would leave the kid in the cell. You bail him out, and he’s not going to learn from his mistake.”
The mistake was getting into a fight with a police officer’s son. Jisung almost scoffs but holds a kind face. Having an attitude with the man will not get his brother out of there.
“That’s okay, I would rather not leave him in there,” Jisung answers. He would be damned if he left his little brother in a holding cell for the night. Hosang would think Jisung is leaving him behind, probably. Jisung doesn’t see Hosang’s behavior improving if he thinks that the person taking care of him has no problem leaving him in a cold cell while Jisung sleeps at home, nice and warm. Even thinking about doing that to him leaves a rock in Jisung’s throat, the look on his brother’s face if he was told that Jisung decided to leave him there is too much to bear even if he wouldn’t be there to see it. He would be damned. “How long do you think it will take to figure out how much?”
“I’ll get one of our girls to take care of it,” The man leans back in his chair, to lean his neck and look at a girl at a computer. The girl is typing away. “Stacy, can you figure out how much Hosang Han’s bail is?”
“Of course, sir,” Stacy says, not even looking up from her computer. “Give me a couple minutes.”
The man leans forward, and nods to Jisung, “There ya go.”
Jisung takes that as a way to end the conversation and pulls Subin back to the seat they were sat at. Jisung doesn’t try to stop his leg from shaking as he impatiently waits to see how much this is going to cost him.
He’s not a stranger to jails or prisons, his very own parents were both carted off to the state prison themselves, which is the reason he is even taking care of his brothers in the first place. He remembers having a job at sixteen and using three whole paychecks he had saved up for his mom’s bail when she got arrested during an argument at a bar. He knows this process all too well.
He opens his phone to look at his bank account and sighs.
If it is over one thousand, Jisung will have to call Changbin or Felix to get help. He just paid the rent, plus his and Hosang’s phone bills. Hosang couldn’t have picked a worse time to be carted off to the slammer. He very badly does not want to ask his best friends for help again, and bites his lip as he tries to think of something else to do if it comes down to it. He could get a loan from the bank if he doesn’t still owe them for the money he had gotten to fund Hosang’s school trip to a ski lodge last winter.
His name gets called again.
He repeats with Subin what they had done before, going to the front desk again.
“It will be one-thousand five hundred,” The man casually says, as if he didn’t give him a price that was almost the amount that Jisung has to pay for rent. “Will that be cash or card?”
“Card, but,” Jisung swallows the lump in his throat. “Can you give me a couple of minutes?”
“Sure,” The man says. “Not like the kid is going anywhere right now.”
Jisung keeps in a huff. He is an adult, and he will not huff at authority.
Subin follows Jisung as he walks out of the building, and he follows Jisung’s movement as Jisung leans against the wall. There is a guy on the phone beside them, but he doesn’t pay him any mind.
In Jisung’s head, he curses. He will not do it in front of Subin.
“When is Hosang coming out?” Subin finally takes a moment to look away from his switch and look at Jisung with eyes that feel vaguely familiar to Jisung’s own. “I want pizza for dinner. Can we have pizza for dinner?”
Jisung purses his lips. He hates telling him no, so he tells him that they will see.
“Hosang will be coming out soon, I just need to call someone, okay, bub?”
“Okay, hyung! If we do get pizza can we get the one with mac and cheese on it, I tried Hosang’s slice last time and I really liked it, but he told me I couldn’t have anymore because that’s not what I chose,” Subin rambles on about pizza as Jisung nods along, scrolling through his contacts and finding Felix’s name. “And hyung, I told him, you know what I said? I said you didn’t pay for this pizza! Hyung did! And he said, ‘no shit’.”
That makes Jisung pause, looking down at Subin, “Binnie, no. Oh my God, you can’t say that. Hosang said that?”
“Yeah, is that wrong, hyung?”
“That’s a big person word,” Jisung tells him. “You and Hosang aren’t big enough to say that kind of word yet.”
“Hosang says he’s big,” Subin says, he reaches his tiny arms up as if trying to show Jisung the height of Hosang. “He is big.”
“He is big to you because you are so small,” Jisung explains to his youngest brother. “But you are both small to me, right?”
“Hm, maybe!”
Jisung cracks his first smile since he had gotten the phone call from the department two hours ago.
“Okay,” Jisung nods.
He clicks on Felix’s call button and waits two minutes before it goes to voicemail.
“Fuck,” He feels his smile drop when Felix doesn’t answer. He doesn’t hold in the curse and scrolls to find Changbin’s name. Calls, and gets the same answer. The voicemail. “Fuck.”
“Fuck?” Subin repeats.
Fuck. Jisung scrunches his face up.
This is just what he needs; Hosang in juvie, his two lifelines offline, and Subin cursing.
“No,” Jisung says. “Don’t say that, Binnie. That one is a big person word, too.”
Subin pouts, “No fair. I like how fuck sounds!”
“Binnie,” Jisung can’t help but whine out at his little brother. “No more, okay? We won’t get pizza if you say it again.”
Subin does a little stomp but doesn’t say anything against it.
“Is someone not answering?” Subin asks him.
“It’s okay,” Jisung sighs out. “They might call back.”
“Who?”
“Someone,” Jisung says. He doesn’t want to mention their names to Subin because he knows that he would want them both to come over and Jisung doesn’t want to hear the end of it about his two best friends. He knows they are busy right now. “I need someone to help me get Hosang out of here, you see? But I need them to answer first.”
“I can help you,” Jisung startles at the voice next to him that calls out. He heard that voice that had been rambling on the phone when he and Subin had come out, but he didn’t realize that the person had stopped talking until now. Jisung looks over, and the guy is leaning against the wall a little further away from Jisung’s spot. He has a fully black outfit on, a suit shirt, and suit pants. He looks like a model and doesn’t look like he belongs at the current place they are at all. Jisung ignores the attractive smile that the guy has. “How much do you need?”
“Uh, that’s okay,” Jisung tells him. There is no way Jisung is taking money from a stranger, he has no clue what this guy would ask for in return. “I’ve got it under control.” He presses Felix’s contact again and sighs when he doesn’t answer.
The guy gives him a knowing look, “Are you sure? It’s not like it would dent my pocket.”
“I’m happy for you,” Jisung tells him. Of course, the guy had money, he looked like he just walked out from modeling for Gucci. “I’m not taking money from a stranger.”
“Well,” The guy pushes himself off of the wall, and holds his hand out, giving Jisung a grin, “I’m Minho Lee, VP of Gucci. Now, I’m not a stranger.”
There it is. He looks like he walked out of modeling for Gucci because he is covered in it.
Jisung glares at the guy, Minho, before trying Changbin again. No answer.
Subin asks Minho what Gucci is, and Jisung listens as the guy gives an explanation that he knows will only make Subin ask more questions. It works for Jisung because that has the two of them distracted while Jisung calls Felix again.
He breathes, frustrated, when there is no answer yet again.
“Congomerate?” Subin repeats to Minho. “That’s a weird word.”
“Yeah,” Minho side glances at Jisung as he sees Jisung’s frustration build up. “It helps me make money, though, so I can help pretty guys outside of detention centers.”
Jisung rolls his eyes and tries Changbin again.
It’s no answer, and he huffs, shutting his screen, and he turns to Minho, “Fuck. Okay, fine. What do you want out of it?”
“What?” Minho looks just a tad bit startled by Jisung’s little outburst. Jisung takes a breath to calm down his panic. He would never do something like this if he wasn’t as desperate as he was. His little brother has already been in that cell for four hours at least, and he has no clue how long Felix or Changbin will be without their phones. “I don’t need anything.”
“Yeah, right,” Jisung scoffs. “Everyone needs something. If you’re trying to get a date out of this, it’s not happening.”
Minho shrugs, and Jisung sees the look of disappointment that hits Minho’s face before he covers it up.
“That’s not it, I just want to help,” Minho says. “How much do you need?”
“Really?” Jisung asks him, and he narrows his eyes at him. Minho keeps an innocent look on his face as he nods. “You’re not going to ask for anything?”
“I mean,” Minho says, letting a lopsided smile hit his face, “I would like your number, but if you say no, I’ll take your answer for what it is. Whatever you need, this money seems important, and you’re cute.”
“Hyungie is cute!” Subin calls. Jisung feels his ears burn, but ignores it. “Can you buy us pizza, too?”
“Subin, no,” Jisung says. “I’ll give you my number, but only so I can pay you back. Would you be okay with, like, weekly payments?”
“You don’t have to– I mean, yeah,” Minho stops himself in the middle of his sentence when Jisung gives him a look. “That’s fine, whatever works for you.”
“Okay,” Jisung nods, sighing as he agrees to let this random guy pay half of his little brother’s bail. It’s not like he has much choice.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
It’s how he finds himself at a pizza parlor an hour later, Minho across from him as Subin chews on a mac and cheese pizza next to Jisung and Hosang broods silently in the booth beside Minho, picking at his pizza.
“Is it good?” Minho asks Jisung.
Jisung wouldn’t have taken Minho up on his offer for dinner, but Minho had the excuse that after Subin mentioned pizza he started to get hungry for it, and since he brought it up, Subin begged Jisung for them to go with him. Jisung agreed, but only because he had his car and could drive the three of them here instead of getting in the car with a nice-for-no-reason stranger.
Jisung looks down at his pizza, a simple cheese pizza, and nods.
“Thanks,” Jisung says.
“No problem, anytime,” Minho says. “You have my number now if you ever want to get dinner with me again.”
“Gag,” Hosang says from his spot. Subin giggles next to Jisung.
“Thanks, but I’ll only be using that to pay you back,” Jisung denies him. Minho might be attractive and nice, but Jisung doesn’t have time for himself, let alone spending time with another guy. Even if they are attractive and nice. “Can I ask, though? What were you doing at the detention center?”
“You can ask me anything, Jisungie,” Minho says, sweetly, and Jisung rolls his eyes. “I was dropping something off for my friend's girlfriend. She works there.”
“Is your friend’s girlfriend Stacy?” Hosang says, getting a look that Jisung knows is no good. Minho nods. He’s about to say something an annoying teen boy would. “She’s hot. Let me know when they break up.”
“You’re fifteen, Sang,” Jisung says. “And what did I tell you about talking about women like that?”
“What? You have no problem calling Changbin hot.”
“That’s different,” Jisung shakes his head. “I am friends with him and it’s a joke. That’s objectifying a woman you don’t know.”
“Ya-da, ya-da,” Hosang says, using his hands as someone talking. “Whatever. I can’t say anything around you.”
Jisung takes a deep breath, before looking at Minho, “Sorry about him.”
“No problem,” Minho shrugs. “I was fifteen once.”
“When? Fifty years ago?”
Minho lets out a surprised laugh.
“How long ago is fifty years?” Subin asks, seriously.
“That’s as old as dad is, Binnie,” Jisung explains to his brother.
Hosang gets a nasty look, going back to picking at his pizza.
Jisung understands it, but bringing up their dad was the only way Jisung could quickly think of how to explain the age. He still feels bad to mention something that is a sore spot for Hosang, though.
“That’s old!” Subin’s eyes widen as he looks at Minho. “You’re that old, Minho-Ahjussi?”
Minho coughs, “Ahjussi? I’m not that old. You can call me hyung.”
“I only have one hyung, though,” Subin says, and he leans his head against Jisung’s arm. He smiles, wide. “Jisung-hyung!”
“What about Hosang?” Minho asks, directing an eye over at the fifteen-year-old. “He is your hyung, too, right?”
“Yeah, but dad said I don’t have to call him that,” Subin says. Minho’s eyebrows shoot up at it, but he doesn’t say anything. “Jisung-hyung is special, so he only gets the label.”
Jisung shakes his head, “Hosang didn’t want to be called hyung. But if he wants you to call him that, you will, right, Binnie?”
“But dad said-”
“Who gives a fuck what dad says?” Hosang quips.
“Hosang,” Jisung says. “Don’t. Let’s talk about something else, okay? We will talk about this later.”
“Sure,” Hosang mumbles.
“Okay,” Subin has a confused look but agrees nonetheless. “Minho-Ahjussi, what pizza do you have?”
Minho shows off the piece that he has on his plate to Subin, “Margherita.”
“Okay,” Subin says. “Can I try?”
“Can you?” Minho looks at Jisung like he is asking him, and Jisung nods.
Minho places a slice on Subin’s plate, and Subin smiles happily at him.
When they are done with their pizza and Subin is rubbing tiredly at his eyes, Minho pays for their dinner and Jisung makes a note in his phone of how much it is, telling him he will pay him back.
Hosang doesn’t thank him for the meal, or for bailing him out before he is speed walking to Jisung’s car, Subin following behind him.
Jisung stops to talk to Minho.
“I’m sorry about Hosang,” Jisung says. Even though he doesn’t want to feel bad for Minho, Minho did just pay for the dinner and Hosang’s freedom. He was also not too bad to talk to, Jisung could see himself being friends with him if they weren’t worlds apart. “He’s going through a lot right now. We’re working on it.”
“I’m not surprised the kid I helped you bail out of juvie has an attitude,” Minho says, amused. He reaches a hand to pat Jisung on the shoulder. “It’s okay, really.”
“Okay,” Jisung says. “Thank you. I will message you about my payment. I get paid next Friday.”
“Do you-” Minho starts, stops, before he starts again, “Do you have money to hold you off until then?”
No, he doesn’t, but he’s not going to tell him that. He’s done enough for them as it is.
“Yeah,” He lies, but it’s okay. If he really needs financial help until next Friday, he has Changbin and Felix and the tips he gets from his job at the diner. “We’re good.”
“Okay,” Minho nods. He looks a little out of place in front of a family pizza parlor, almost as much as he looked out of place inside. The watch on his wrist beeps, and Jisung watches as he slides his sleeve up a little to look at it. Jisung does not think about how attractive it is, and how solid his forearm looks. “Ah, it’s time for me to feed my cats.”
His watch tells him when to feed his… cats.
Jisung blinks at that, not expecting this seemingly hotshot rich guy to be so caring over cats that he has an alarm for their feeding time.
“Thank you for letting me buy you dinner,” Minho grins at Jisung, giving a small wink. “Text me or call me if you need anything, really. I’ll be there.”
“Thanks,” Jisung says, still feeling a little stunned. It’s not a big deal, but it’s oddly cute. Jisung has to ask, “What are your cat's names?”
Minho gets a genuine smile, “Soonie, Doongie, and Dori! I’ll send you a video and introduce them. Soonie was my first, he is the eldest brother, and Dori is the baby. They’ll be really playful when I get home, especially before they eat.”
Jisung feels his heart swell a little at how excited Minho seems to be when talking about his cats. He smiles a little, “Okay. That would be cool.”
Minho opens his mouth to say something, but it’s cut off by Jisung’s ringtone calling out in his pocket. It’s his ringtone for Changbin, and he hurries to get it out because he knows Changbin will be worried.
“Thank you again, Minho,” Jisung tells him, looking at his phone. He gives Minho a quick nod. “I’ll text you.”
He heads to his car as he answers his phone.
“Jisung, is everything okay? Are the kids alright? Where are you? I just got home from the conference and charged my phone, and we saw that you had called a lot,” Changbin lets his sentence run on.
“We’re okay,” Jisung says. “We got it handled, it’s okay. Hosang had a bit of a… uh, run-in with the police.”
“That little shit had what? How much was it? Is he being held?”
“It was one point five-kay,” Jisung tells him, and he arrives at the car with Hosang in the passenger, messing with the radio. He can hear a guitar and sighs. “Um, can you guys come over tomorrow? I can explain what happened. He’s out, by the way.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” Changbin says. “Felix heard you too. You’re on speaker.”
“Okay, good,” Jisung nods even though they can’t see. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow. I gotta get Binnie home, he’s already passed out in the car.”
“Okay,” Changbin says. “Love you, Sungie. I’m going to buy a battery pack for Lix and me, so we don’t miss your calls again.”
“I love you too,” Jisung says. “See you.”
He opens the driver's door and jumps when he hears how loud Hosang has the rock station on. He just sighs and slides in, not wanting to scold Hosang for the fifth time tonight.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
True to his word, Minho sends Jisung a video of his cats. He sets the camera up so Jisung can see him play with them, letting them run around and chase a string connected to a stick. He points out each of the cats and tells the camera, Jisung, facts about them. Soonie, the eldest, is the one who clings to Minho the most. Doongie, the middle child, is indifferent but still goes to Minho when he calls him and meows at Minho like he is communicating back. Dori, the youngest, bumps his head against Minho’s knee before walking off. The video is about three minutes, and Jisung rewatches it five times before he texts back: They are so cute.
He ignores the flirtatious: So are you ;) Before putting his phone on the coffee table and lying down on the couch, he has made his bed since the boys moved in with him.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
“So, okay,” Changbin is sitting at Jisung’s kitchen table as Jisung tells him and Felix about everything that happened. “You’re telling me, the VP of fucking Gucci overheard you needing money and just decided to help you out?”
“Pretty much, yeah,” Jisung nods. He is glad that the kids are at school because he can never seem to get Changbin to control his cursing around them. Changbin at least does look sorry when he does it. “He wanted to take me on a date, but I said no.”
“Was he cute?” Felix asks him.
“Yeah,” Jisung nods, and tries not to think of the video Minho had sent. “But I’m not interested.”
“Why? Did he give you the ick?”
The opposite.
“No, I’m just,” Jisung shrugs as he plays with the place mat that Felix’s mom had gifted to him. “Too busy. Plus, we’re, like, two worlds apart. I sleep on my couch, and he owns five of them, probably.”
“Perfect,” Changbin says. “You marry him, and you also own five couches.”
Jisung flicks Changbin in the neck.
“Not happening,” Jisung says. “Besides, I need to figure out how to get Hosang to behave. Going to juvie once is enough to get the state’s eyes on us. I don’t want to have to go through all that again.”
“True,” Felix frowns. Felix was with Jisung every step of the process; he was helping Jisung with preparing the house to look good for when the social worker came by and would help Jisung with any of the paperwork he needed, especially for school since that was Felix’s level of expertise considering he is a substitute at an elementary school. Changbin helped too, of course, but he was in New York during most of it. He helped Jisung with legal stuff but didn’t have to sit through the meetings that Jisung had to sit through and Felix, vicariously, as he would wait patiently for updates. Felix cares about the kids almost as much as Jisung does. “Have you heard from your mom?”
“No,” Jisung says, breathing deeply. He knows that not hearing from her is the exact reason why Hosang has been acting up so much recently. The first year or two of their mom being in prison, she would call them at least weekly, but the past year she has been slacking, and it’s taking a toll on Hosang, who is the closest to her. “I called the prison, but they told me she was on time out.”
“Time out?” Changbin scoffs. “Fucking ridiculous. Acting like she’s a kindergartener.”
“Yeah, well,” Jisung shrugs. There’s not much he can do about it. “I want to try to plan a time for us to go visit her, I think it might help Hosang.”
“I think so too,” Felix agrees. “Let us know if you need any help with planning it.”
“Of course,” Jisung says.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Jisung, to have enough money to take care of himself plus his two younger siblings, works three jobs.
He has them ranked in favoritism.
The Dollar Tree is the easiest, probably, but pays the least. He works there from seven to three every day of the week, Monday to Friday, just to have the check match what he makes at the Hotel he works from eleven to seven on Friday and Saturday. The Hotel would probably be easier to work for than the Dollar Tree if he didn’t have to deal with his dickhead of a manager who will pinpoint everything that Jisung does wrong. If he even writes the number eight weirdly, he calls Jisung out for it. It pays well, though, considering the Hotel is one of the more luxurious parts of the city that Jisung lives in.
His favorite, though, is the diner that is open twenty-four-seven on the edge of the city, just behind a Walmart and Wendy’s. He works there from five to twelve Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.
He likes his coworkers and his manager. The tips he gets, especially from regulars, are what get him through daily things. His manager, Chan, also adores Subin and has no problem letting Jisung keep Subin in the diner while he works. Chan lets him set him at a table with his switch and things to color on, fills up his cup with Chocolate Milk any time he finishes it, and takes a break every once in a while to check on Subin and take him to the bathroom. Jisung especially enjoys that his coworkers will also take moments to stop by and check on him.
Today, Jisung has to keep an eye on both Subin and Hosang, who still has a nasty look on his face from Jisung forcing him to come to work with him after he had picked him up from school. Hosang glares at Jisung every time he comes by to fill up their glasses, and Jisung tries not to let the part of him that Hosang’s sibling and not guardian take over. He does not tip his brother’s Sweet Tea over on him, even if he is frustrating him. That is something a kid would do, and Jisung is an adult.
“Hosang giving you a run for your money?” Seungmin asks him when he comes back to the kitchen, which is open for everyone to see and is in front of a counter that is usually occupied by the older gentlemen who come there for Coffee and to chat with each other, or watch the screens that Chan keeps on the news for them. Jisung likes them, they are the ones who tip the best and always give him good advice about life or entertain him when the diner is slow. “Or did he just have a bad day?”
“Bad month,” Jisung sighs. “Had to bail him from juvie last week, so now he is grounded and thinks I ruined his life.”
“Juvie?” Seungmin says, incredulously. “Little Hosanggie went to juvie ?”
Jisung also likes this place the most because it’s the one he has stuck with since high school. His coworkers and manager all have been with Jisung through this whole process, and even knew them before the Great Permination, as they all have lovingly called it. It means Seungmin also knew Hosang when Hosang was younger and adored Jisung. Jisung would pick Hosang up from school while Subin was in daycare and bring him to the diner, just because Hosang loved spending time with his older brother. Jisung looks back on it fondly and tries not to be frustrated at the Hosang in the now.
If Jisung had the freedom to be as angry as Hosang, he would have done it years ago. He can’t blame Hosang for being pissed off at the world for the cards that he was dealt, but it devastates him that he can’t figure out how to ease his anger just a bit. At least ease it enough, that way he’s not kicking off at police officer’s children.
“Yeah,” Jisung sighs. “He got into a fight.”
“Damn,” Seungmin frowns at that, before nodding to the new guy who slides into a chair next to Bernard, Jisung’s favorite regular. Jisung notices that Bernard’s cup is empty, so he heads to the coffee pot to refill it. “It was that bad?”
“Probably not,” Jisung says. “But getting into fights with a police officer’s family is just as bad as hitting an officer.”
“Wow,” Seungmin says. “That’s fucked.”
Jisung nods and tops Bernard’s coffee cup.
Bernard smiles at him, happy. Jisung smiles at him back just as his phone buzzes.
Jisung pulls his phone from his front pocket and sees a new message from Minho.
How about instead of you sending me money over the phone, we could meet in person tomorrow?
Jisung rolls his eyes, but can’t help a smile cross his face at it.
Minho, since Jisung had given him his number, had no problem using it when he could. Since they had met a week ago, Minho has used Jisung’s number to send photos and clips of his cats, which Jisung, of course, had to respond to. He couldn’t leave the cats without compliments. He even used his number to call Jisung one night and ask him if he had any restaurant recommendations and if Jisung would like to show him it.
He sends back: Good try. I work tomorrow.
The message is read immediately and Jisung quickly exits out of the app. He wouldn’t let Minho think he is waiting for his response, because he’s not.
The screen lights up: Where? I’ll come to you and bring some food. Will Subin and Hosang be with you?
“On your phone at work?” A voice startles Jisung and he almost drops his phone. Luckily, he doesn’t and spins around to hit Changbin square on his chest. “I’m going to tell Chan you’re hurting your customers.”
“I could have broken my phone,” Jisung says, glaring at his best friend as he takes a seat in the empty one in front of where Seungmin is standing. Jisung rolls his eyes. Changbin only comes to visit Jisung at this job with the excuse to flirt with Seungmin, who pretends he hates it but leans in every time Changbin pulls his loser flirting technique. “You would have been paying for that.”
“You sure you can’t get your Gucci sugar daddy to do that?”
Jisung checks where Subin and Hosang are, making sure they aren’t looking, before he flips Changbin off.
“Gucci sugar daddy?” Seungmin asks, giving Jisung a curious look. He didn’t tell Seungmin about Minho because he didn’t feel like it was important. And not because he is embarrassed. “Did you get yourself a sugar daddy?”
“God, no,” Jisung answers, while Changbin lets out a disbelieving laugh.
“Han Jisung letting someone take care of him like that? Sure,” Changbin tells Seungmin. “He’s paying this guy who works at Gucci back for helping him bail Hosangie out of jail.”
“ Juvie ,” Jisung corrects him. Jail is where their parents would go from time to time when they were kids. Hosang is not like them. “But yeah. He paid half of the bail.”
“Wow, and you let him?”
“Didn’t have much of a choice,” Jisung tells him. He avoids eye contact with Changbin because he doesn’t want Changbin to feel guilty. “It worked out anyway. I’m making my first payment to him after all my paychecks come on Friday.”
“And that payment is…?”
Jisung glares at Seungmin. “Money.”
“Buying himself a lingerie set and posing for him with it,” Changbin says, and Jisung doesn’t check this time if the kids are looking before he flips Changbin off again. “Save that for Gucci man.”
“Gucci, mane,” Seungmin says.
Jisung rolls his eyes, before noticing the new people who have come into the diner. He goes to help them and promptly forgets about Minho’s text.
It’s when he takes the kids home, and they go to bed that night, that he gets a call from Minho when he remembers the last text.
He answers Minho’s call as he lays down on the couch, muting the TV, where he had been watching a documentary about sharks.
“You didn’t even leave me on read,” Minho answers Jisung’s hello. “Feeling very offended right now, Jisungie.”
Jisung lets out a scoff at that, “I have work, you know? Not everyone can be bothering some guys they barely know all the time.”
“Hm,” Minho drawls out. Jisung briefly wonders where Minho is, but shakes the thought away. He doesn’t care. He’s going to pay Minho back, and Minho will eventually get bored with him. He doesn’t care where Minho spends his nights, and he doesn’t feel the need to bite his lip over how Minho’s voice sounds on the other end. Quiet, and a little tired. “You’re saying guys as in plural? I need you to know that you are the only guy I have ever spent my days bothering.”
“And I suppose I should feel happy about that?”
“You suppose correctly,” Minho says. “But… You know, I don’t feel any actual negativity from your responses. It’s fun, right? But if you’re uncomfortable and need me to back off, you can tell me. I handle rejection pretty well.”
“A rich guy knows how to handle rejection?” Jisung quips, but he smiles a little to himself. It was sweet that Minho was making sure he wasn’t uncomfortable. Whoever Minho ends up with will be lucky, Minho seems to have a heavy grasp on boundaries. “It’s fine. If I need you off my back, I’ll just kill you.”
Minho let out a laugh like he was surprised that Jisung would say such a thing, “I would let you.”
“The self-respect is nonexistent?”
“No, my respect for you just weighs out the respect for myself,” Minho says.
“You hardly know me,” Jisung says. “I could be an actual serial killer, and you could be slotting your position on my hit list.”
“I think I’ll take my chances,” Minho tells him. “What is your favorite food?”
“I didn’t agree for you to bring me food,” Jisung tells him. “But Hosang and Subin really like pizza, if you couldn’t tell.”
“I asked what your favorite food is.”
Jisung blinks and thinks. He doesn’t take much time to think about himself lately, between his jobs and taking care of the kids, he hardly even has time to sleep, let alone think about food. He usually just gets whatever the diner has left, usually a Cuban sandwich or Gyro that they would have after his shifts.
“Jisung? Are you still there?”
“Yeah,” Jisung clears his throat. “I like pizza, too.”
“Yeah?” Minho says. “Just cheese pizza? So are Subin and Hosang going to be at work with you?”
“No,” Jisung tells him. “My best friend watches them when I work overnights.”
“I’m getting so close to knowing where I can meet you tomorrow,” Minho says, and Jisung chuckles at him. Since Minho had suggested it, Jisung had already decided that he would let Minho collect money in person instead of over the phone. Minho wanted to, and it was the least Jisung could do for his kindness. “Can I?”
“Do you know Lucent Hotel?”
“Oh, yeah,” Minho says. “My dad is the owner. Do you work there?”
Jisung feels the distance between their worlds, again, “Yeah.”
“What time does your shift start?”
“Eleven,” Jisung answers. He watches the TV screen, where a shark is chomping at bubbles in the sea. “I work at the front desk.”
“Have you ever tried the food there?”
There is a restaurant that is connected to the hotel, which is high class, and every time Jisung passes it, he feels like he is entertainment for the rich. They will eat, in their expensive suits drinking bottles of wine that cost more than his rent, and stare at him as he walks by.
“What do you think?” Jisung feels defensive. He feels bad over how sharp his words come out, but Minho doesn’t seem to take offense to it.
“Let’s eat there, together, before your shift,” Minho suggests. “Then you can choose what you would like to eat. I mean, if I bring you something, you can decide what I bring. I just think it would be nice for us to sit for dinner together. I want to get to know you, make sure you’re not a serial killer or something.”
“There is no way I would be comfortable in that restaurant,” Jisung tells him. “Not happening.”
“Okay,” Minho says, quickly. Again, being so understanding. “That’s fine, then. So, pizza?”
“You don’t have to buy me anything,” Jisung tells him. “Just come, and I’ll give you my first payment. Are you trying to make me owe you more ?”
“If that keeps you around me, sure.”
“Wow,” Jisung says. “You’re not even trying to hide it.”
“Why would I? I don’t need to hide anything from you, baby, I’m an open book.”
Jisung does not feel lightheaded over the way Minho’s voice sounds when he calls Jisung a pet name. Not at all.
Jisung yawns before he can reply, and Minho yawns in response.
“Tired?” Minho asks him, his voice soft as he does. “I’ll let you sleep, okay?”
“A little,” Jisung says. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“It’s a date!” Minho calls before Jisung hangs up.
Jisung rolls his eyes, unmuting the TV and lying down.
He falls asleep almost immediately.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Jisung isn’t in the best mood when Minho comes in.
He didn’t expect for the sun to be shining, or for the birds to be singing when he is on shift for the hotel, but he didn’t expect the thunderstorm of a mood that his manager would put him in this very day.
Minho makes it to the hotel at the time that Jisung had told him he should take his break.
Minho looks like he had come straight from his job, in a suit, like the first time they had met. Jisung has yet to see him in anything that wasn’t work attire, actually. Even the video he had sent introducing his cats, Minho was still in his suit as if he had come into his house and automatically started taking the video, not wanting to take a second to get settled first.
Jisung is still on shift when Minho finds him at the front desk, writing aggressively in the staff notebook about the complaints he had received tonight. Room 403’s water pressure isn’t perfect; they needed it to spray a little harder in order to step in it and Jisung needed to leave his spot at the front desk and fix it himself, despite the fact that he’s not a fucking handyman and knows nothing about water pressure.
When he tried to send them back to their room, with the promise of letting someone more qualified take a look at their shower, they complain to his manager who makes him go up to their room despite knowing that Jisung can’t just magically fix something he knows nothing about. Jisung’s only suit gets soaked because the shower head disconnects from the pipe. It ended in him moving the guests from their room to a new one, and having to block off room 403 and getting berated by his manager. He wasn’t happy, and he’s sure Minho can tell right when he walks up. Jisung is freezing because they keep the air conditioner up, and because his suit is clinging wetly against his skin, still.
“Did it rain in here?” Minho asks, putting a bag on top of the counter. “Why are you wet?”
Jisung glares at Minho as if he was the one who had personally made him wet.
“I don’t even want to talk about it,” Jisung finishes up the ending words for his report, before capping the pen and throwing it down. “Break room is fifty million feet away.”
“Actually,” Minho says. “I have a room here, just in case I need it. If you’re comfortable eating there?”
Jisung would rather not spend another second in any of these stupid, unnecessarily fancy fucking rooms.
“Your face is telling me no,” Minho says, giving Jisung a look like he was sorry for even suggesting it. “You have an hour break, right?”
Jisung nods.
“Let’s eat outside, then,” Minho suggests. “Get you some fresh air. I’ll be right back, though, okay? I just want to get something from my room.”
Jisung is curious which room Minho’s is. They have a couple rooms on the very top floor that can never be given out because they have permanent residents, so Jisung assumes it’s one of those. He’s never had to look at who was under those rooms because they have been occupied since before he had started working here a little over a year ago.
Jisung nods, and tells Minho he won’t go for his break until Minho comes back down.
He stays seated at the front desk, doing a little more paperwork before his manager comes back and huffs at him.
“Why aren’t you on your break yet?” His manager asks him, crossing his arms and staring down at him. Jisung always finds himself having to suppress rolling his eyes. Sometimes he wishes he were fifteen again so he could do it and get away with it. “I gave you a specific time for you to go on a break, and what is this?” He pokes at the bag that Minho had left at the desk. “Did you order something here? You didn’t ask me if you could.”
“I’m waiting on someone before I take my break,” Jisung tells him, always keeping a polite voice. He would just be more miserable if he ever gave him a hard time. “He left that there, he’ll be back for it.”
His manager scrunches his face up in distaste, and in Jisung’s opinion, he would be a handsome man if he wasn’t such a dickhead, so when he scrunches his face he thinks about how ugly he looks. It’s an unattractive look, and makes Jisung feel a little better about it.
Jisung notices Minho coming up, a new bag in his hand that sways a little as he walks. Minho doesn’t seem to be looking at Jisung, though, instead keeping his eyes fixed on his manager.
“You can’t just bring random friends in here, you know? I told you that you can’t before. Why don’t you ever listen? Do you want to be fired?”
“No, sir,” Jisung answers. “My friend is someone who has a room here.”
That makes his manager pause. “What?”
“I have a room here, he said,” Minho says to Jisung’s manager, startling him as he stands next to him. Minho gives him a fake smile. “You know that, don’t you, Andy?”
“Oh, Mr. Lee,” His manager says, his eyes lifting in recognition as Minho slides past him to grab the food bag. “Yes, I do. I didn’t know you were here, though, you never come here. And I especially didn’t know you were friends with… Jisung.”
“I know. I’ve neglected my room here,” Minho tells him. He eyes Jisung’s manager, his eyes strict when he does. It’s like Minho’s whole attitude had shifted when he saw him. Jisung was intimidated, and he wasn’t even the one on the other end of Minho’s scrutiny. “You’ll see more of me now.”
“Of course, you are welcome anytime, Mr. Lee,” His manager says.
“May I ask why one of your employees is wet?”
“Ah, Jisung here decided it would be a fun idea to break one of our showers,” His manager says, as if Jisung wanted to break the pipe. Jisung breathes deeply, quiet enough that his manager can’t hear. Minho does, though, if the small look Minho gives him is any hint. “It’s okay, though, we will get the shower fixed.”
“I’m not worried about the shower,” Minho tells him. “Do you think it’s professional to make your front desk guy take care of maintenance stuff? Do you think it’s professional to leave said employee in the clothes that have been ruined while on the job ? I wonder if my father knows this is how you are treating your employees.”
Jisung blinks, a bit surprised that Minho could gather all of that from what his manager had said. Part of him was thankful for Minho defending him, while the other part was annoyed that Minho didn’t think he could handle himself.
“No,” Jisung is surprised his manager doesn’t stutter. “I apologize, Mr. Lee. I will find a replacement suit for him right now.”
“Don’t bother,” Minho tells him. “I have it covered. Jisung will be taking his break now, you can watch the front desk for him.”
“Yes, sir,” His manager says.
Jisung finds himself outside with Minho, in the well-lit courtyard that luckily provides them a pick from a couple of picnic tables.
Minho had handed him the bag he brought down from his room to Jisung after he had scolded Jisung’s manager, and told Jisung he had a couple of suits in the room. Jisung changed into the suit because he didn’t have much of a choice. It was either to wear the suit and be comfortable for the rest of his shift, or stay in wet and chilly clothes. He feels a little insecure in the suit, though, considering Minho has a bit more of a muscled body than Jisung does, which means the complete Gucci outfit was a bit baggy on him. Another reason he is feeling insecure is because it’s complete Gucci, and he couldn’t afford to replace it if this one got messed up.
Jisung watches as Minho serves him some cheese pizza on a paper plate, his eyes narrowed as he does so. Jisung is perfectly capable of serving food for himself. He keeps the thought to himself, though, still a bit upset from his night and not wanting to sound too harsh. It was sweet of Minho to grab him clothes, and sweet of him to bring Jisung some food. Even though Jisung said he didn’t have to.
“Does he treat you like that all the time?” Minho asks Jisung after they both have food and drinks. “Is that normal?”
“Yeah,” Jisung rolls his eyes and takes a bite out of his pizza, upset. “Today he was a little worse, though.”
“I see,” Minho muses to himself. “Have you ever thought to take it to HR?”
“What could HR do for me?” Jisung says. “Send me home and tell me to grow thicker skin? No, thanks.”
“That is mistreatment,” Minho frowns at Jisung. “He-”
“It doesn’t matter,” Jisung feels his tone cut through the warm air. “That’s life. You get managers who are dicks and wouldn’t even care if you made it home safe. You stick to yourself, don’t let it get to you, and survive. I can’t afford to make complaints.”
Minho blinks at Jisung’s rant before he seemingly backs down.
“Okay,” Minho says. He takes a bite of his pizza. “What did you do before work?”
“Took the kids to school, went home, and slept until it was time to pick them up,” Jisung tells Minho. He plays with the end of the table as he does, thankful it was metal and not wood. He would be asking for splinters if it was. “Made them dinner, took Subin took the park, then took them to my best friend’s house for the night.”
Minho nods, “Changbin, right? Or was it Felix?”
Jisung doesn’t remember mentioning either of those names to Minho, and he gives him a suspicious look.
“Subin mentioned them!” Minho quickly says. “When you and Hosang were talking about his phone, Subin was telling me about your best friends. He really likes them both, you know?”
“Subin likes everyone,” Jisung tells him. “It’s a little concerning.”
“I guess I can’t feel special if Subin likes me, then, huh?”
“Who said Subin likes you?” Jisung says, wanting to see what reaction he would get. He had found that it was easy to joke with Minho that way, Minho was receptive to his jokes and never seemed to take offense to them. Minho makes a disapproving noise. “That would be embarrassing for you if he didn’t.”
“So he does, is what you are saying.”
“Again; Subin likes everyone,” Jisung says. “But, yeah, he does like you. He actually finally stopped asking if we would hang out with Minho-Ahjussi anytime soon, Wednesday.”
“I have to fix that,” Minho says. “How about a family outing?”
Jisung scoffs, and Minho just grins at his exasperation.
“What do the kids like?” Minho says. “What is Hosang into? Maybe we can cheer him up by doing something he likes.”
Minho is weird, Jisung has found out through their conversations over the phone and when they went for pizza together before. He shouldn’t be surprised that Minho is just talking about them like they are also his responsibly to take care of, but he is. If Jisung were anyone else, he might fall for it. Jisung isn’t anyone else, though.
“Who invited you into the family?”
“You will, eventually,” Minho says, and he leans forward as if something has caught his eye. He swipes his thumb across Jisung’s chin before he can even process it. “We already had a family dinner, we’re basically on the way to our marriage.”
Minho sticks his thumb into his mouth, licking around it before he pops it out of his mouth. Jisung blinks at it, and doesn’t pay attention to any of the heat that is swelling in his stomach.
“… I’m off Sunday,” Jisung says, to avoid feeling turned on over something as simple as Minho sticking his thumb into his mouth. He hasn’t been laid since he had been in college, sue him. “Subin picks what we do this Sunday, because I let Hosang choose last time. Since Subin has been asking about you… I guess you can come.”
Minho jumps up from the seat for a second, fist bumping the air as he does, as if he had just been told some great news.
When he sits back down, he holds his hand out for Jisung, “Thank you, Mr. Han. You will not regret this decision.”
“I better not, Mr. Lee.”
Before Minho leaves, Jisung tries to convince Minho to let him change out of Minho’s Gucci suit and wear his own suit which was now dry, thanks to them leaving it out while they ate. Minho refused, though, telling Jisung that he had plenty of the suits and didn’t need it back.
He, of course, also gave Jisung a look up and down, before he had smirked, “Besides, it looks so cute on you. It would be a shame for me to wear it after it had chosen you.”
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
He wishes he could say he does regret the decision, but in reality, Jisung doesn’t, especially when he sees how happy Subin is when Jisung opens the door to Minho standing outside their apartment, with a toy set of Dinosaurs in one hand, and a bag in the other hand.
Minho isn’t wearing a suit this time, instead he is wearing simple jeans and a black shirt with a black jacket over it. Jisung does not think about how attractive he looks as he invites Minho in, and Minho takes his jacket off before Subin drags him off to show him his bedroom.
Hosang watches from the couch, and gives Jisung a look, like he knows Jisung finds Minho attractive. Jisung ignores it, following behind his youngest brother and their new friend.
Subin is rambling away to Minho about his favorite dinosaur – the Plesiosaurus, not to be confused with Pliosaur which are ugly and too scary looking, in Subin’s opinion – when Jisung makes it to the doorway of Subin’s bedroom.
Minho had told Jisung that he had remembered Subin mentioning he had liked dinosaurs, but Jisung doesn’t think Minho knew just how much he did until now, at least, when he is standing in the eight-year-old’s room on top of Subin’s dinosaur rug. Minho takes in the sight of Subin’s dinosaur bedspread, Subin’s dinosaur curtains, and the DIY posters of his favorite types hanging on the wall, DIY because they were all from a textbook Subin had asked for on his birthday one year prior. Instead of having an overwhelmed, or negative reaction, Minho looks fond and listens carefully to every word that Subin is telling him. He is taking the dinosaurs out of the toy set, and telling Minho a fact about each of them, and Minho is being receptive right back.
Jisung blinks before Subin finally notices his brother, “Hyung! Look what Minho-Ahjussi bought me! Team Land will now have more members. Team Aquatic’s have to watch out.”
“Are they at war?” Minho asks, his eyes wide as he asks Subin.
Subin nods, solemnly, “Team Aquatic felt like they were better than Team Land and Team Land didn’t take kindly to it. Captain Quaddie will be happy to have more friends.”
“I’m happy I could deliver the Captain some friends,” Minho tells Subin. “How about you help them with that real quick? I have something for your other brother.”
“Okay!”
Jisung blinks, “For me?”
“Hosang,” Minho tells him. But he stops in front of Jisung to smile at him, “Well, I do have something for you too.”
He doesn’t say anything more before he slides past Jisung to go towards the living room. Jisung gives a look to make sure Subin is alright before he follows Minho through his own apartment like he would get lost if he wasn’t next to him. Their apartment is small; the living room is right when you come out of the hall, so Minho would have to be inebriated and tripping if he got lost there.
Hosang is still on the couch, playing on his Xbox on the TV, and Minho drops the bag he had next to him. Hosang glances very subtly at it before pretending that he didn’t notice.
Minho doesn’t say anything, and he turns to Jisung, “For you, I give you my attention.”
“Wow, what a gift,” Jisung says, sarcastically. “Is there a return policy?”
“Yeah, it’s that you can’t return it.”
“This isn’t a new gift, I would say,” Jisung says. “I think I’ve been dealing with the consequences of accepting a gift since I met you.”
“Again, no returns.”
Jisung huffs out a laugh.
Subin chooses to spend the day at home, which surprises none of them after Minho gave him the new dinosaurs. Subin keeps to himself in his room, while Hosang eventually stalks off to his room, Minho’s gift for him in his hand.
Minho sticks to Jisung, though, and helps Jisung cook them all dinner.
Jisung had expectations of how Minho would be, as he always does for rich people. He expected Minho to not know how to take rejection, he expected Minho to not genuinely pay attention to things people say, and he most definitely did not expect that Minho would be a cook, let alone a good one at that. He knows his way around the kitchen, and he even gives tips to Jisung on how to better the mac and cheese after Jisung had complained that it never turns out the way he wants it. Minho seems focused when Jisung lets him take control of the meal prepping and takes a moment to step back and just watch Minho. Minho was interesting to Jisung, considering he is the opposite of all the negative things Jisung was thinking about him.
Jisung thinks they could be friends, despite their worlds being so far apart, Minho looks awfully comfortable in Jisung’s small kitchen that doesn’t have much space to move around in because the kitchen was also their dining room. Minho looks like he could adapt to any environment, and Jisung is almost jealous.
He is pretty sure he doesn’t look half as adaptable in places like the hotel. As a matter of fact, he knows he doesn’t because he never stops getting looks like they know where he lives.
Minho is like a cook on the food network; he tells Jisung each step he is doing and looks at Jisung to make sure he is getting the information down in his head. Jisung isn’t, not at all. He is too focused on how Minho knows what he is doing, and is focused on how hot it is.
“Now we let it bake for an hour,” Minho tells Jisung after he puts the homemade potato skins into the oven. Minho stretches. “While we have time, you should show me your room.” He sends a wink, Jisung’s way.
“If I had a room, we would not be going in there,” Jisung tells him, which is a lie because Jisung is pretty sure that after seeing how Minho was today; he would trust him to see his room. If Jisung had a room, and was able to hang personal things up or put his own flavor to his room, would Minho like it? Would he give him as much of a positive reaction like he had given Subin? “We can go to my bed, though.”
Minho blinks, and for the first time since he had stepped into their apartment, seemed to find his words jarring.
Jisung drags him to the couch, and flops down on it.
Minho stays standing, though, his eyebrows furrowing.
“Do you watch any TV shows?” Jisung asks him. He is trying to avoid the bombshell he had just dropped on Minho. He gets it; people get so shocked when they find out that he is a grown man sleeping on his couch and leaving most of his clothes in the closet of his younger brother. “I usually watch documentaries.”
“Jisung, are you joking with me?”
“No, I was literally watching a shark documentary when we were on the phone the other night.”
Minho gives him a look, like he is serious.
Jisung sighs, “No. I sleep on this couch, we only have two rooms.”
“You couldn’t let Subin and Hosang share a room?”
“Hosang is fifteen,” Jisung says. Jisung was able to have his own room at fifteen. He thinks that if he didn’t, he would have died. Fifteen was a confusing time, and he knows how much space and alone time matters during it. “He needs his own space.”
“Yeah, but,” Minho shakes his head. “So do you. How the fuck does your back feel?”
“Perfectly fine,” Jisung lies. “I hardly need it as much as he does. I’ve done my puberty, it’s his turn.”
“Can I help you get a bigger apartment?”
“No,” Jisung says, flat out.
“It would just be me helping you with rent. Just a three-bedroom apartment, I would pay half for you and–”
“No.”
“Jisung, I think you should consider it.”
“I think you should consider sticking to your own business,” Jisung says, because he feels defensive and feels like Minho is trying to treat him like a charity case. “I know I joked about you putting me in debt to you to keep you around, but now it doesn’t seem like a joke.”
Minho frowns, “If you don’t want me around, I said you can tell me.”
Jisung knows that. He does want him around, but his words shoot bullets whenever he feels cornered, “I’m fine with you around when you’re not trying to overstep.”
“It would be good for you to let someone help you,” Minho says. “A three bed would be good for all of you.”
Jisung scrunches his face in annoyance.
He huffs, “Just drop it.”
“Okay,” Minho says, gently. He sits beside Jisung. “Just… Think about it, okay?”
Jisung says, “I won’t.”
He scrolls through channels until Minho tells him that he would probably like what was on one channel; they stop on a documentary about polar bears. Jisung doesn’t think about Minho picking that just because Jisung said he likes documentaries.
At dinner, Hosang comes out of his room with a new hoodie on, one Jisung knows he for sure has never bought and when Jisung sees the subtle but proud smile on Minho’s face, he realizes that the hoodie is probably the thing that Minho had brought for Hosang.
Subin has to be carried out of his room by Jisung in order to get him to the table, he was so focused on the ongoing war between the Land dinosaurs and the Aquatic dinosaurs that he didn’t want to eat.
In a surprising turn of events, because of previously mentioned struggle, Subin is the grumpy one while Hosang actually has a peek of a small smile when Jisung makes a joke. Jisung blinked at the smile, and couldn’t help but smile, too.
Subin keeps mumbling about how he is missing the good stuff, and Minho chuckles at him, seemingly finding him cute.
“I’m sure the dinosaurs can record the drama for you,” Minho tells Subin. Subin looks at him deadpan. “Or, uh, they could reenact it for you. No?”
Subin gives Minho a very serious shake of the head.
Minho exchanges a look at Jisung before he seems to do the same for Hosang. Hosang chuckles next to Jisung.
“Never mind,” Minho says. “We’ll make it up to you, okay? How do you guys feel about going to get some ice cream?”
He says it while looking at Jisung, for approval, and Jisung nods. He could afford some ice cream for Subin and Hosang.
After dinner – and after they had gotten ice cream, where Jisung insisted on paying for everyone’s ice cream, Minho had looked like he wanted to deny it, but he didn’t say anything – Jisung helps Subin get ready for bed while Minho stays out in kitchen, helping Hosang with the dishes as it’s Hosang’s dish night. Jisung was a bit surprised at Minho’s offer, despite learning that he shouldn’t let Minho surprise him. Of course, he’s a rich guy who touches dishes.
When Jisung comes back out and into the kitchen, Hosang isn’t in sight and Minho is finishing the dishes on his own.
“Did Hosang rope you into doing the dishes on your own?” Jisung says, eyebrows furrowing. He shouldn’t have expected him to do it if Minho had offered help. “He has to learn how to do his chores.”
“No, I told him I got it.”
“Why?”
“He seemed tired,” Minho shrugs and places the last dish into the dish rack. He turns around, and leans against the counter, his hands placed in front of the sink as he looks at Jisung. “He has school in the morning, doesn’t he? It is pretty late.”
“Are you–”
“Nope, no,” Minho raises a finger, as if scolding Jisung for what he didn’t even say. “You are not doing that. I am not telling you how to raise the kid, all I’m saying is I had no problem doing it. Hosang yawned and I told him to get out of the kitchen. That’s what happened, Jisung. None of that.”
Jisung snaps his mouth shut, and can’t help but feel embarrassed that Minho knew exactly where he was going with that. Like he knew that Jisung was getting defensive.
“Okay,” Jisung admits defeat, and yawns. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” Minho tells him. Jisung can’t help but stare at him for a second, under the dim light of his kitchen, and sees the grip that Minho has on the counter. He briefly lets his thoughts go to where they shouldn’t; if he would allow Minho to get close in that way, he wouldn’t mind seeing Minho’s hands grip him like that, on his thighs or even his neck. Jisung gulps, and Minho seems to watch. Minho’s eyes light a bit in recognition, like he knows exactly what Jisung was thinking. Minho clears his throat. “I should head home. You have work in the morning, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Jisung’s voice is weak when he says it, but he doesn’t pay it any mind. “I do. I have to get up earlier to make sure I get Subin to Changbin’s.”
“Okay. Here,” Minho nods, and he pushes himself away from the counter, moving a little closer to Jisung. He pulls something out of his pocket; a card, and hands it to Jisung. It looks like a business card when Jisung takes a look at it, and it has Minho’s name, his position at his work, and his business number. Jisung gives him a confused look. “My work phone, in case you ever need anything while I am at work. I’m not a stranger anymore, Jisungie, so please accept help when you need it. If you find yourself needing someone to watch Subin or need help with money, there is no way you won’t be able to get a hold of me.”
Jisung doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he nods, a tiny bit, before he places the card onto the counter.
Minho gives him a small smile, “I consider you my friend, Sungie. I hope that’s okay.”
Jisung blinks.
Minho pats him on the shoulder, before he heads towards the exit of the apartment. Jisung takes a second, before he grabs Minho’s wrist to stop him.
He doesn’t look at Minho, keeping his eyes on the floor, and mumbles, “It’s okay, hyung. We can be friends.”
Minho lets out a puff of air, “Good. We were going to be friends whether you liked it or not.”
“Sure,” Jisung finally gives a look to Minho, who looks ecstatic from Jisung accepting his offer of friendship. He grins so big, that Jisung wonders if he was the same guy that had been scolding Jisung’s own manager. “Go home.”
“Sure thing, friend,” Minho tells him. “I just need my wrist in order to do that.”
Minho eyes Jisung’s hand on his wrist, and lifts them to Jisung’s face, again.
Jisung releases him so quickly he almost slaps his own chest.
“See you later, lovely,” Minho winks at him, before he actually leaves this time.
Jisung takes a deep breath when he hears the front door close.
“That was gay,” Jisung jumps from Hosang’s voice sneaking up on him.
“Bro,” Jisung lifts his hand to his heart. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack? I think I leave you around Changbin too much.”
Hosang rolls his eyes at that, “You don’t have to leave me around anyone. I’m basically an adult.”
“Literally not true,” Jisung tells Hosang. “Maybe I wouldn’t worry about leaving you alone if you didn’t go to juvie.”
“I already said I’m sorry,” Hosang says, exasperated. “Joe said some dumb shit about Michael and it annoyed me. He deserved it.”
“Hosang,” Jisung decides not to scold him for his cursing. He was closer to figuring out what Hosang was so mad about that day, and he didn’t want to make him reserve himself again. “What could he have said that would make him deserve being beat up? We shouldn’t use violence.”
“Okay, dad,” Hosang says, and he sounds like he is putting walls up with how frustrated he sounds. “I swear, I can’t have a conversation without you lecturing me.”
“Do you not think getting into a fight is not worthy of lecturing?”
“When you were my brother, you wouldn’t lecture me,” Hosang tells him, frowning. “You would have told me you were proud of me for sticking up for my friends. Now you’re just like dad.”
Jisung pauses at that and feels tears prick at his eyes. If there was anyone he would hate Hosang to see him like; it was their dad.
Their dad had always mistreated Hosang, he didn’t believe that Hosang was his and would get into drunken arguments with their mom about how he shouldn’t have to take care of Hosang because Hosang isn’t his. Their dad wouldn’t even buy Hosang birthday gifts, Jisung had worked from a young age to buy Hosang gifts and write the tags as if they had come from their dad. Jisung hated getting attention from their father, and hated their dad for treating Hosang the way he did. They all knew it; Jisung stopped coming to their house months before their parents had been arrested and instead picked Hosang up after school and let him spend nights at this very apartment.
Looking back, he feels guilty for not doing enough.
For not trying to get Hosang and Subin out of there before it got truly volatile.
Jisung clears his throat, turning away from Hosang. He will not let him see him cry. “I’m sorry.”
Hosang huffs from behind him as Jisung starts to mess with the dishes that were in the drying track.
“Not completely like him,” Hosang mumbles, and he does sound apologetic, which makes Jisung feel a little better. Jisung knows how much Hosang is alike to him, he knows that Hosang’s negative traits were all one’s he had inherited not just from their parents, but from Jisung himself. Their words are meant to sting, when they are angry. They are meant to sit on the other person’s skin, ink from a needle and their worst fears being tattooed for everyone to see. “He would never keep good company like you do.”
“He wouldn’t, would he?” Jisung says, sniffling a little from the tear that he had let drop. As quiet as possible, that way Hosang doesn’t hear. “You like my company?”
“Minho-hyung is cool,” Hosang mumbles. “He pays attention.”
“He does,” Jisung says. He rubs at his nose, “You should get to bed, Hosang. You don’t want to be late for school.”
Hosang scoffs, but Jisung hears as his feet shuffle out of the kitchen and to his room.
When he hears Hosang’s door shut, Jisung lets more tears fall, and scrubs at them, annoyed. He gets it; he was also a little shit when he was younger and angry at the world. He should grow thicker skin against Hosang, knows that he doesn’t actually mean things like that, but he feels like he is doing wrong with Hosang. Like he is messing up his job, that all the formative years that Hosang will spend with him will lead him down a path that is similar to the one of their parents. He feels like he is ruining his relationship with one of the most important people in his life.
He breathes out a balancing breath before he decides to take a shower, and tries to get the stress off that way.
When he gets out of the bathroom, he checks in Hosang’s room, to see if he is still awake. Hosang isn’t, though, as he snores in his bed. Jisung closes his door quietly, before checking on Subin and doing the same.
He opens his phone to set an alarm clock, and he sees a missed call from Minho.
He grabs his jacket, and heads to the balcony. He closes the door, sits on the little futon they have out there, and he dials Minho back.
“Hello?” Minho answers after the second ring. “I thought you’d be asleep already.”
“Took a shower,” Jisung puts his thumb into his mouth, gnawing at the skin a little. “I saw that I had missed a call from you.”
“Yeah,” Minho sounds like he is lying in bed as Jisung hears rustling in the background. “Just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for overstepping earlier. I told you that I’ll respect when you tell me no, and I had disregarded because I thought I was right.”
“It’s okay,” Jisung tells him. “I know you’re coming from a good place.”
“Good,” Minho breathes out. “Are you going to sleep now?”
“Hosang likes you,” Jisung answers his question with. He finds himself wanting to talk to Minho longer. It’s unusual, but he finds himself wanting to lean into it. “That’s a hard thing to achieve.”
“He does?” Minho sounds surprised. “He does ?”
At his repeat, he sounds excited.
“He said you pay attention,” Jisung tells him. “And I think… it would be good for him to be around someone he likes. So, when you have time, if you want to come over or spend time with us… You know. It might be good for him, or something. You know?”
“Absolutely,” Minho says, so quick, like he didn’t need to think about spending his time with them. As if he wouldn’t be busy himself. “We should make Sunday nights a regular thing, would that be okay?”
“That’s up to you, I’m the one asking.”
“You’re the one who’s only day off is Sunday,” Minho says. “So it’s up to you.”
Jisung is silent for a second, “It would be good.”
“Okay, good.”
“Yeah,” Jisung mumbles. “So if… Do you work on Thursday night?”
“Depends on the time,” Minho says. “I come home from the office at four most of the time. What’s up on Thursday?”
“I work at a diner from six to twelve,” Jisung explains, biting a little harder on his thumb as he prepares to ask something from Minho. It took so long for him to even consider letting Changbin or Felix take care of the kids when he couldn’t; not that he didn’t trust them, but he didn’t know how to pay them back for it. It’s so unlike him to be so ready to ask something of someone, “I usually keep Subin with me there because Changbin and Felix are usually busy Thursdays. So if maybe… It’s okay if you can’t, but if you would maybe watch Subin for me? It can be at my apartment, of course, you can use anything from the kitchen, and I’ll pay you–”
“Jisungie, I already told you I would,” Minho cuts him off. “You don’t need to pay me because I will get payment for being a part of your life.”
“You’re so cheesy,” Jisung huffs out, his biting against his thumb easing up as he feels less anxious. “I think if I split you apart, you would ooze cheddar cheese, or something.”
“Back to your serial killer ways?” Minho says, before he chuckles. “I mean… No. Never mind.”
“What?” Jisung feels his eyebrows furrow. “Never mind what?”
“Just surprised at you talking about me oozing anything.”
“Wha– Oh my G– Hyung!” Jisung sputters out, taking his thumb out of his mouth to avoid even thinking in that direction. He can’t help but laugh as he says, “What is wrong with you?”
“I said never mind,” Minho doesn’t sound ashamed as he speaks, though. “Besides, I think I would prefer to be the one to get you oozing.”
“Please stop saying oozing,” Jisung whines. “It’s so gross.”
“You used it first but, okay. What would you prefer? I would prefer to be the one to get you to… You’re meant to stop me here, Jisungie.”
Jisung finds himself not really wanting to stop Minho’s words.
“Say what you want,” Jisung mumbles, stretching out onto the futon.
“Fuck,” Minho says, and Jisung hears him fumble with his phone. “I’ll say it.” It sounds like he is warning him of something, but Jisung doesn’t say anything, other than humming in agreement. “I would prefer to be the one to get you to come. I would make you fall apart.”
“Would you?” Jisung breathes out. He grips a little at his phone, and adjusts himself. “You want to tell me how you could do that?”
“Fuck,” Minho repeats. “Jisung, we just. What does this mean?”
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean?” Minho sounds incredulous. “You called me hyung for the first time today. Are we doing this as friends, or are you letting me have more?”
“Friends,” Jisung says, quickly. He doesn’t even want to think about anything more. He’s been stressed, and he kept on thinking about the way Minho’s hands look. The way Minho’s arms look as he cooks, or how broad his shoulders look. Minho is hot. “If that’s okay.”
“You want me to get you off, but as your friend?” Minho repeats. “I just want to make sure we are clear on what we are doing.”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” Minho says, and lets out a small sigh. “Were you hard already?”
“I’m not even hard yet, hyung,” Jisung tells him. “You’re being very slow at making me fall apart, you know?”
“Brat,” Minho hums out. “I want to go easy on you. Who knows how long it’s been since you’ve touched yourself to someone else? If you ever have.”
“Tell me what to do,” Jisung says. “Maybe I forgot what to do.”
“Yeah? Or maybe you just want to hear your favorite hyung teach you how to do it right?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Jisung says, but he twists a little more as he feels himself get hard at the way Minho’s voice sounds. “I have a couple hyung’s who I like plenty.”
“Don’t make me jealous now, Jisungie,” Minho says, his voice low and drawling. It makes Jisung squirm. “I could tell you you can’t touch yourself at all, and you wouldn’t, right? You want to be a good boy for hyung, don’t you?”
“I do,” Jisung is so turned on by his words that he reaches down, palming himself through his sweatpants. “Hyung wouldn’t do that, though, right?”
“Mhm,” Minho murmurs. “Not today.”
Not today implies that there will be another day. Jisung doesn’t think about it.
“Today,” Minho says. “Let’s start from the top.”
“What are you? A theater director?”
“I think Jisungie needs something to block out the noises he’ll be making. There’s just something about him that makes me know he’ll be a noisy lay,” Minho ignores Jisung’s quip. “You have a shirt on, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Jisung answers.
“Put the collar in your mouth. Let me know when you have done it.”
Jisung listens embarrassingly good, as he places the fabric of his gray t-shirt into his mouth. He knows that when he’s done there will probably be so much evidence of saliva on it, but he doesn’t find himself caring right now. He hums a confirmation.
“You listen so good,” Minho sighs out. “I bet you look so hot right now. You have to agree to send me a photo after you come.”
Jisung mumbles an okay into the fabric of his shirt.
“I think Jisungie liked my hands, didn’t he?” Minho says. “I’m using them right now to imagine it’s your neck I’m feeling the pulse of.”
Jisung feels drool come dripping onto his shirt as he tries to mumble about how he does like Minho’s hands.
“I hear you, baby,” Minho says. “Can you feel your pulse for me? Press your free hand around your neck and feel how hard your heart is beating right now. Is it beating as much as mine is?”
“Yes,” Jisungie mumbles as he lifts his hand to his neck, and imagines it's Minho’s hand that is pressing down. He feels his heart beating so quickly, he also feels how hard he gets as he grabs at his neck. “Good.”
“Yeah, you are good,” Minho tells him. “I think you deserve to touch yourself for that. If I was there, I would be trailing my hand all the way from your neck to your dick. I’d let you feel every sensation my hand has to offer.”
“Fuck,” Another mumble from Jisung, as he listens to Minho. He trails his hand down, squirming as he goes slow to reach his dick.
“Good, baby,” Minho tells him when Jisung lets out a little whine. It’s like he knew he had reached his most sensitive spot. “I want you to spit in your hand for hyung and start out slow. Don’t rush it.”
Jisung lets the fabric of his shirt fall out of his mouth, before he spits into his hand and listens to Minho; reaching into his sweatpants and wrapping his hand around his dick. He moans, and Minho tsks.
“You didn’t put your shirt back in,” Minho scolds him. “Muffle it.”
“Does hyung not want to hear me?”
“Hyung wants to be the only one who can hear you,” He says. “ Listen .”
Jisung does just that, taking his shirt back into his mouth, and jerking himself slowly.
When Jisung lets out little muffled whines, Minho tells him to slow down. Jisung tries to get a couple more slowed strokes before he involuntarily speeds up his pace.
“Hyung,” He mumbles. “I need it. I need to go fast, hyung.”
“Okay,” Minho sighs on the other end, letting out a small groan. “Hyung will speed up, too. Jisungie, you’re so good. You sound so fucking good.”
“Hyung, too.”
Jisung feels himself twitching as he continues to jerk off, listening to Minho mumble random praises as he does and feeling his hips stutter before he whines, “I need to come.”
“Wait for hyung,” Minho says. “Hyung is almost there.”
“Please,” Jisung says, choking a little on the shirt in his mouth as he tries to get the words out. “I want to come, hyung, please.”
“Okay,” Minho breathes out. “Come, baby.”
Jisung gets a couple more strokes in, before he is whining out Minho’s name and feeling saliva dribble from his mouth to his chin as he comes. Minho comes with him, but he is quiet as he does; his only hint being a small little stutter in his breath.
Jisung closes his eyes as he comes down from the high he felt.
“I must have saved a nun in my past life, or something,” Minho says. He seems to move around, before, “Fuck, Jisungie, it’s already one.”
“Fuck,” Jisung mumbles. He spits out his shirt. “I gotta get to bed.” He yawns.
“Go to the bathroom first,” Minho tells him, before he mumbles: “I wish I was there to take care of you.”
Jisung blinks at that. “I think I got it.”
“Yeah,” Minho says. He yawns. “I’m going to let you go, okay? Get some sleep.”
Jisung yawns, again, at Minho’s and Minho returns another.
“Oh God, goodnight, baby,” Minho says. “Sorry — Jisungie. Sleep well. I’ll see you Thursday?”
“Yeah,” Jisung says.